Give and Take
by Von Gentleman
Summary: Emmet doesn't want to get dirty. Emmet views himself as perfect— which is why he refuses to pleasure his twin despite taking all the pleasure for himself. Ingo decides to put him in his place. WARNING: Blankshipping (twincest, Ingo/Emmet Emmet/Ingo), extremely NSFW.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** This is basically a lengthy PWP. This is also extremely NSFW. Blankshipping (Ingo/Emmet Emmet/Ingo), twincest. This is intended for those above the age of 18. Please use discretion when and where you choose to read this. If you do not like blankshipping, I suggest you run far, far away _right now_.

**Give and Take**

**By Von Gentleman**

PART I

"_Brother_…" Emmet leaned his tall frame over and draped his arms around his twin from behind, his voice playful and lustful. Pushing the high collar of Ingo's coat down a bit, he nuzzled his neck, nipping at it before rubbing the side of his face with his cheek. "I had a long day. I was hoping you could do something for me? You know. That _thing_ you're _really_ good at doing."

Ingo paused from doing the paper work at his desk that he sincerely dreaded doing—it was the only boring part of his job—and felt his face getting hot. His younger twin often used his title of older brother as a pet name, especially when he wanted something. Ingo turned his face to look at his smiling brother who was now embracing him.

"Not here, Emmet," Ingo attempted to say firmly but he was well aware that his younger twin knew how to manipulate him. It was an awful character flaw in himself, he thought. He should be stronger than this. "You need to wait until we get home."

"No. I need you now, brother," he practically purred into his ear, turning Ingo's chair just a bit so he was eye level with his crotch. Beneath his pants was a very obvious erection. "Can't you tell? You're not really going to force me to wait until we get home."

Ingo darted his eyes toward the door, which told Emmet that he was thinking about it rather than refusing flat-out. Emmet's grin widened.

"I already locked the door, Ingo. Please," he began to undo the belt to his pants. "We're finished our pokémon battles. We finished our work for the day. All you need to do is give a few more items your signature, right? And that can wait." With his gloved hand, Emmet reached for Ingo's black hat and set it on the desk, running his hand through his hair. "I'm ready now, Ingo," he said in a rather commanding tone as he unzipped his pants and revealed his arousal. Leaning against the desk, he pulled Ingo near his erection.

Ingo huffed a bit in disapproval since Emmet had constantly been pushing it by having him do this in the work place. It was beginning to become a routine and Ingo had only fed into it. He was about to say no this time, about to flat out refuse and make him wait, but as soon as he looked up at him to protest, that manipulative gaze of Emmet's, that devious grin, those sharp teeth revealed made him abandon the idea of refusal. His gloved hands hesitantly grasped Emmet by the hips and Ingo obliged him finally by taking him into his mouth.

At least now Ingo had some kind of control.

Emmet's chest rose, gasping softly when he felt his brother's mouth. It was amazing. The way his tongue moved up and down the shaft, how he'd moved to the head and dip his tongue into the slit before taking him all the way back into his mouth and deep-throat him was something he had gotten _very_ good at.

_This is what Ingo is meant to do. Ingo is meant to do all the dirty work with his mouth for me_, Emmet thought as he gasped again when Ingo's hand moved to cup his sack and started massaging him. His lustful smile broadened, highly pleased by Ingo's skill. _I love him so much, but I couldn't possibly return the favor. I'm too perfect for that. Too superior to dirty myself and lick up such disgusting things. But there's nothing wrong with getting it; especially because everything that comes out of me is an extension of my perfection. It's a privilege for Ingo to do this, really._

"Ah…" Emmet grasped the desk behind him when Ingo took the sensitive gonads into his mouth and started sucking at them. "F-fuck, that's new, Ingo…" his knees felt weaker. Part of him hated feeling weak, especially when Ingo did things to his body that could make him come so quickly, though he did mostly enjoy it. Emmet had a lot of stamina during sex, but when Ingo played his trump cards, he almost always won. "Fuck, Ingo, I, ugh, please…"

This was exactly the kind of reaction that Ingo wanted to elicit from his brother. Any time he got him begging, any time he got him close, he knew he had the advantage. If Emmet was going to insist on the favor, he was going to do it his way.

_My brother is so vain. He thinks he's above giving it and will only take. Emmet believes he's perfect; it's partly why he wears white and why he punched an employee in the face for getting a speck of dirt on his __**perfect**__ white coat last week. He'll let me fuck him and he'll fuck me, but he won't ever use his mouth_… Ingo moved back to his cock, taking him all the way back into his throat and began encouraging Emmet to thrust. Once he did, he knew it wouldn't be long until Emmet would come. _I'll just have to take him down a few pegs, that's all. At the very least, he needs to realize that I am perfect too._

As Emmet fucked his brother's mouth relentlessly, his cries grew louder, his fingers twisted in Ingo's hair, and his free hand slammed down on the desk, "Fuck! Ingo, I'm going to— ah!" he could feel himself release into the warm depths of his brother's throat, coming with a shudder, his body convulsing a bit as he tried to catch his breath.

Ingo swallowed everything his brother had released and slowly pulled back from him. He sighed, nuzzling his hip, murmuring, "You're so bad, Emmet."

"Mmh… Ingo, you're," he took a moment to catch his breath, not seeming to hear his twin. "You're so good," he sighed as he took Ingo by the tie and lifted him up so he could kiss his brother's mouth and taste himself. He rather thought his own semen tasted perfectly good, which further reinforced the thought in his mind that anyone who gave him head was experiencing a wonderful privilege that they should be grateful for.

As if knowing exactly what Emmet was thinking, Ingo licked what was left from his lips, not allowing him to taste himself anymore. Emmet pouted a bit causing Ingo to sigh, shaking his head. Turning back to his desk, he finished adding his signature to the remaining single line documents that only he could approve.

Emmet zipped his pants and buckled his belt back up before placing Ingo's hat back on his head. He gave him a light pat on his cheek, causing Ingo to frown before he met his gaze and Emmet grinned at him once more.

"I'll reward you for this later tonight, Ingo," he leaned over his desk, whispering in his ear. "I know you like it rough, so I'll be sure to give you exactly what you want."

Quick like a flash of lightening then, he turned to unlock the door and open it, leaving Ingo behind him with a swish of his pure white coat and cool air filling the office.

Ingo paused from his paper work, left elbow propped up on the desk with his hand resting in front of his mouth while his right hand flicked and twirled his pen around between his fingers, thoughts running through his mind as the pen made flawless rotations in his hand with each flick that his fingers made.

_I'll make you learn a bit of humility. Just you wait, Emmet. You __**are**__ just as perfect as you think you are. But I am no less perfect than you and you are not above paying me what you owe._

No one would know it because Ingo's hand was covering his expression, but with that very thought, he began to smile.

[[To Be Continued]]


	2. Chapter 2

**GIVE AND TAKE**

PART II

"Don't worry. I didn't mark you above the collar," Emmet assured, kissing the back of his neck, fingers brushing over the new bruises that were in the perfect shape of the grasp he had earlier around Ingo's neck. Ingo winced when Emmet pulled out and could feel the warm mess inside him that slowly began to move down his legs. The older twin sat up on his knees, throat still sore from coughing. He slowly slid out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" asked Emmet.

"Getting cleaned up," Ingo murmured in a hoarse voice, staggering away crookedly toward the bathroom, causing Emmet to laugh.

"Wow, I really roughed you up today, brother," he grinned, enjoying the appearance of the fresh red scratches he had made with his nails all over his back. "Don't be too long, okay?"

Ingo ignored him, shutting the door behind him. He looked in the mirror, noting the scratches and bruises. His twin really had done a number on him, but at least he did retain the courtesy not to mark any place on his body that could be seen at work. What he didn't have the decency to do was control how forcefully he'd thrust into his throat or how hard he had held onto his neck.

The older twin cleared his throat, noting how sore it felt tonight and turned on the shower. His brother was relentless and Emmet had been completely unapologetic and shameless about it. It seemed as though Emmet expected this any time he pleased. Ingo was beginning to feel taken for granted.

And he had enough.

He got in the shower and started scrubbing his body down, wincing when the soap got into the open scratches and when the loofah pressed too hard against the bruises on his neck.

_Emmet is not going to get his way so easily anymore._

_Oh no._

Ingo washed his hair with the high-end shampoo he always preferred, taking time to condition the ends.

_I will give Emmet an education in how to give._

_He'll learn how to use his mouth. And enjoy it._

_I'll be sure of it._

Ingo rinsed the suds out of his hair and off his body, turning off the shower and toweling himself dry.

_Retraining his behavior requires breaking him first._

_It starts tomorrow._

…

Emmet stared at his brother from across his desk, anger mixed into the large grin plastered across his face, watching Ingo take the last sip of his evening coffee.

The older twin was well aware of Emmet's mood. He planned to do nothing to appease him. Refusing to give his brother head first thing in the morning started the day off perfectly; additionally, Ingo had purposely neglected to prepare a lunch for his brother like he normally did and rather than cooking up the usual sit-down breakfast, he had ignored making the morning meal completely, leaving Emmet to raid the pantry for the last health-bar full of things that the younger twin found disgusting.

The constant tapping of Emmet's pen was a good signal that his plan was working.

"Why were you in such a hurry this morning?" Emmet finally asked, annoyance apparent in his voice.

"A hurry?" Ingo asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah, you were out the door in a flash and you only took the time to make your hair and face pretty."

"Taking the time to bother combing my hair back and moisturizing my skin hardly adds up to _making myself pretty_. A comb is a fine invention; you should try using one some time," Ingo replied dryly.

Emmet let out a hiss through his teeth and reclined back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, crossing his long lanky legs.

"Anyway, I can't wait to get the hell out of here," Emmet stated, looking at the clock anxiously.

"Why? Have something _planned_?" Ingo asked with a tinge of what sounded like misplaced superiority to the younger twin.

"Um, yeah? The usual. You know," said Emmet, making an obscene gesture with his hand while his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

"Oh," Ingo replied, stacking his papers neatly. "I'm sorry. I won't have time for that tonight."

"…Excuse me?"

"You see," he said, putting his papers in a large envelope before looking up and fixing his eyes on Emmet's in such a way that startled his brother, "_I_ have plans."

Emmet finally moved his feet back to the floor and sat up straighter, remaining silent, the corners of his grin twitching, faltering.

"In fact, seeing as I am finished early, I am going to get ready for them." Ingo stood from his desk and waved his hand with an uncharacteristically coy flutter of his fingers before picking up the envelope that contained the paper work he had completed and a bag he had brought with him and leaving their office, closing the door behind him.

The younger twin stared at the door in disbelief. "That fucking cocksucker," he said to himself, his leg beginning to move in agitation. With nothing better to do, he continued to go through his paperwork, signing his name on the bottom of documents that only he, the boss of the double lines, could sign.

Approximately twenty minutes passed when the door opened again. When Emmet's gaze moved upward, his mouth opened, about to tell Ingo off, but he closed it suddenly, eyes glued to his brother.

There Ingo was, standing in his usual pants, though he had changed into a purple shirt with black pinstripes—one that reminded Emmet of Ingo's chandelure—with his sleeves rolled up about three quarters. Over it, he wore a black vest and black suspenders. He was finishing pulling on a pair of black embroidered gloves and his hair, while still mostly slicked back, had a few strands hanging in his face.

Additionally, Emmet could smell the scent he so closely associated with Ingo, that cologne which smelled of bergamot, Egyptian musk, and a vague hint of spice, applied subtly enough that he could only smell it when Ingo had walked right up to him.

"Uh. Ingo?" Emmet asked looking up at him, trying to contain the fact that he was incredibly horny right now.

"I forgot to mention," Ingo started, running his fingers through the strands of hair hanging in his face and letting them fall back in place, "_You_ have plans tonight _too_. You're coming with me."

Emmet blinked at him in silence.

"Drop off your paper work and prepare to leave. We're not taking the trains tonight. I'm driving."

The younger twin stared ahead for several moments before finally nodding. "Yeah, sure. I'll be ready to leave in five minutes."

"Good," Ingo said with that irritating air of superiority that Emmet was suddenly finding incredibly attractive and less annoying. With that, Ingo turned on his heel and was, once again, out the door.

[[To Be Continued]]


	3. Chapter 3

**GIVE AND TAKE**

**PART III**

The screech of the tires with the small black sports car rounding the corner was enough to cause Emmet to cling to his seatbelt. It wasn't that Emmet wasn't used to Ingo's reckless driving; on the contrary, he fully expected it. He simply wound up being terrified each and every time he got into the vehicle that he happened to acquire over a game of high-stakes poker, though Ingo had commandeered his prize immediately, viewing it as a form of punishment since Emmet had dared to use his brother as a betting chip in that particular instance at the Nimbasa Casino.

Too bad Ingo was a horrendous driver. The car had multiple dings and scratches thanks to the older twin's impetuous driving and careless swerving.

"So, um," Emmet started, clinging tighter to his seatbelt, "Why aren't we taking the subway?"

"The nearest subway stop is thirteen blocks from where we're going. It's more convenient to drive," he said as he swerved around a car, prompting a loud beep to come from somewhere behind.

The younger twin's hand slammed down on the seat, convinced for the twenty-seventh time that he was almost certainly going to die. "Curse whoever gave you your license back!" A hand moved up to the back of his own jostled neck. "It should have stayed suspended!"

Emmet's comment, however, is dismissed through his brother's silence, only filled with the roar of the motor. A few moments passed with Emmet looking out the window before his eyes darted to Ingo's gloved hands on the wheel, staring at the black embroidered leather, gaze trailing up his arms, pausing a moment to take in what he was wearing once more, before continuing up to his face. Suddenly, Emmet felt very underdressed compared to his brother. Wherever he was taking him was going to be expensive, judging by the high-end neighborhood they were driving in, and by the way Ingo was dressed, it was probably going to be fancy.

After coming to a jerky halt and parking crooked with one wheel up on the curb, Ingo got out of the sports car with his brother and locked the doors, clicking the button on his keys while pointing it over his shoulder as he began to lead the way. Rounding the car, Emmet noticed that the fender seemed slightly askew and he shakes his head to himself with an eye-roll, taking long strides to catch up to his brother. Having left his hat and coat in the car, Emmet felt just the slightest bit chilly, shoulders shrugging upward toward his ears and staying there stiffly as Ingo continued to lead with his hands in his pockets, not giving the impression of being even slightly cold.

"How much further do we have to walk? Are we going to a bar?" As soon as the question left Emmet's mouth, the younger twin felt like a fool, and his brother seemed to have affirmed that he believed he sounded absolutely ridiculous as well, judging by the raise of an eyebrow and his sideways glance at him. _Of course we aren't going to a bar. Ingo's far too dressy for that_, he thought as he fell behind by a pace or two, watching his brother's figure move down the street, eyeing the shoes he had changed into, and how his hands moved from his pockets to fold behind his waist as he walked. The more he stared at his classy attire, the less put together he felt.

"We're here now," Ingo answered, stopping abruptly before the entrance to one of the tallest buildings in the Nimbasa skyline.

"_Here?_" Emmet asked, surprised, gazing up at the tall skyscraper. "What's here?"

"Oh, you haven't been here before?" Ingo asked, feigning ignorance. It was difficult for Ingo not to smirk. Luckily, the corner of his mouth that tugged upward was not visible to Emmet from his angle. "We should have a relaxing night. It was a long day, after all, wasn't it?" The explanation left him fluidly, having calmed himself, expression not betraying him this time.

Emmet's invisible eyebrows furrowed, though he had a smirk in place. It seemed that Ingo's idea of relaxation was quite a bit different than Emmet's. While the younger twin only desired to feel his brother's mouth on him and fuck it as he pleased, Ingo seemed to think that taking him out to some undisclosed place was the way to relax. He rolled his eyes as they got in the elevator and crossed his arms, watching as Ingo pushed the button to the top floor. The ride up somehow seemed long, particularly with the silence that fell between them, the only noise being the dull elevator music. Emmet couldn't understand how anyone with a properly functioning prefrontal cortex would willingly listen to such crap.

When the elevator doors opened, the younger twin was shocked by what was revealed. Before him was a spacious, dimly lit area with tastefully decorated modern tables dotting the vicinity. From floor to ceiling were windows, offering an excellent view of Nimbasa City. The city lights and the dimly lit chandeliers hanging from long chains reflected in the polished black marble floor.

In other words, this place appeared to be perhaps one of the most expensive places he had ever been to, period. It wasn't that Emmet wasn't used to high-end places, but judging strictly by appearances, this had to be on the top of the list for expensive places to 'unwind' in Nimbasa.

"You know," Emmet started uncomfortably, stepping out of the elevator with his twin and suddenly moving his hand through his hair to fix it as he observed the other guests sitting at their tables. "You could have at least warned me that we were going to a fancy place." His voice reflected clear discomfort. Being in his all-white clothing that had gotten wrinkled and marred with soot from the day's activities felt rather awkward, especially with only his blue tie from work to dress it up. "I would have put on a vest, changed my tie," he adds, growing even more uncomfortable when they start drawing stares. Emmet was used to being stared at when he was with Ingo; being identical twins always drew a fascination from onlookers. However, he was certain that being a physical reflection of Ingo in every way but their clothing choice, he was being judged as being the one who couldn't follow protocol, didn't know the dress code, and, quite frankly, looked like a simpleton next to his much more elegantly dressed twin.

"We didn't exactly have time for that," Ingo explained in a tone as if to imply it was obvious. "Come on. We have a reservation."

It takes a moment for Emmet's legs to finally move and carry him so he can follow his brother out into the open room. A host acknowledges Ingo with a polite smile, before his face falls slightly after giving Emmet a once-over. Two menus were fetched before they were shown their table for two, right by the window.

Right after the twins took their seats, the waiter asked, "Would you like to start with something to drink?"

"I'll just have a lager," Emmet announced which promptly caused the waiter to look startled.

Others who overheard are looking in Emmet's direction with a slight frown.

Ingo was silently shaking his head to himself.

"I'll get an extra dirty martini with Pravda vodka," Ingo tells the waiter.

And then it hit Emmet that he had just embarrassed himself even further by seemingly confirming this 'simpleton' look. Quickly, he grabbed the menu and turned to the drink page. "Never mind the lager," he told the waiter with a wave of his hand and then pointed at something completely random on the drink list. "That, I'll have that," he urged, finger on the mystery drink that would replace the 'simpleton drink.'

With a raise of an eyebrow, the waiter nodded, wrote the order down, and left them for the time being.

"What did you order?" Ingo asked his twin as one leg swung over the other, long legs invading his brother's space under the table. Emmet's legs reacted by recoiling, allowing his brother to have the space.

"I…" Emmet trailed off, trying to remember if he recalled any words on the drink menu. "I don't really know."

Ingo looked at his brother smugly. "If you ordered a $1,200 champagne, it's on you."

Emmet simply shuddered. If the younger twin wanted to splurge, he could. It's not like they didn't have money. However, the idea of being out of his element, being completely unprepared for it made him extremely uncomfortable.

Moments later, the waiter came back with two drinks, setting Ingo's easily identifiable martini in front of him and a pink and fruity looking drink in front of Emmet—it had a swirly straw with a cherry and pineapple chunk on the lip of the glass. The younger twin stared at it and then back up at the waiter as if to silently ask _is this what I ordered?_ Ingo had already thanked the waiter and was taking a sip from his dirty martini, hiding a smirk behind the rim of his glass in response to what looked like a rather feminine drink that his brother has ordered.

Before the waiter had a chance to leave, Ingo pointed at something in the menu to order for dinner, not letting on to his brother what it could possibly be. After nodding, the waiter looks over Emmet, inquiring if he'd like to order anything for dinner.

Emmet simply sunk behind his drink more. "No, thank you."

"I will be back shortly then," says the waiter. "You gentlemen enjoy your drinks."

If Ingo wasn't hell-bent on ruining his brother tonight, he would have burst out laughing right then and there. It's all too amusing for him. Once the waiter leaves, Ingo instead places his glass back down and nudges his brother a bit with his foot under the table.

"Yes. Enjoy your drink."

The younger twin's face was visibly blushing from the looks he was getting and his brother's teasing. It was so stupid of him to not look over the menu in the first place. Maybe he wouldn't have made any mistakes at all. Pouting, Emmet took the sweet and fruity drink in front of him and started sipping away at it anyway. It _did_ taste good, he _did_ like it, but it was not something he would ever drink in front of a snotty crowd, like the one he was surrounded by, willingly. Trying to recover his pride, he straightened up his back as began drinking it rather quickly, as if attempting to tell everyone in that room, _yes, this is exactly what I wanted to order and I am enjoying it_. He could at least _try_ to make his blunder look good.

"What made you pick this place?" Emmet finally asked after what felt like a long period of time.

"I enjoy the atmosphere. The drinks are good. So is the service," Ingo remarked, gaze shifting out toward the window with his chin in his palm, elbow propped up on the table. Really, it was more along the lines of this particular place being perfect to ruin Emmet's ego in. With his younger twin slurping away through that straw at a rapid pace, it wouldn't be long before Ingo had all the pieces positioned exactly where he wanted them.

Maybe it was the saccharine alcohol working on him, but Emmet was beginning to forget his embarrassment and admire his brother from across the table, how nicely he had put himself together, how handsome he looked in his dressy but masculine attire and how—

-how stupid he felt still being in his work clothes across from his much better looking twin. Hence, the cycle of embarrassment took over again.

It wasn't long before something was brought back to their table by their waiter, who Emmet was beginning to think was a big snot, considering his type of work. He placed it in front of Ingo. It appeared to be a small filet mignon with mystery herbs surrounding it. Ingo took the sharp knife that it came with and cut right down the center, spilling the pink and red juices on the plate.

"Perfect," he murmured to himself.

Emmet watched how the knife cut through the flesh, how the juice spilled out and noticeably started chewing on his bottom lip; this did not go unseen by the older twin.

Ingo cut off a smaller piece, brought it up to his mouth and took a bite, tongue brushing between his lips. After giving a hum of approval, he cut yet another piece off. "Delicious." The next bite he took made Emmet lean forward like a starved lillipup begging for food.

With lips moistened from the juices flowing from the meat, the older twin noted his brother's eagerness, the silent plead.

Ingo was not going to give.

"You're getting low on your drink," he said instead. With a swish of his hand in the air, he motioned for the waiter to come back to him.

"Another frosted lychee daiquiri for my little brother," he told the waiter with a gesture toward Emmet. "He's particular about the whipped cream, so be sure to add extra." He paused. "Do pardon us for having to order a second cocktail so quickly. My brother here tends to like things… sweet, rich, and quick." With a flippant movement of his hand then, he shooed the waiter away.

Blushing from Ingo's last comment, Emmet's brows furrowed. "Would you quit it with the innuendo in public?" he hissed, unable to believe that Ingo dared to say such a thing to a stranger.

Without making eye contact, Ingo simply shrugged, taking another bite of his filet.

Emmet swallowed. "Hey, um, do you think you could give me some of that? I mean, just a little piece?"

"Why don't you order your own?"

"It seems expensive."

"Well, you can afford it," Ingo encouraged with a voice soaked in a coy undertone.

"Come on, that thing is like, what, a good thirty-five bucks for a tiny hunk of meat at this place!"

"Well…" Ingo began, taking a moment to lick the bit of juice away from his lips. "When you order meat, you only want the best. And when you want the best, it's expensive, takes a toll on you."

His explanation was interrupted when the waiter placed the second drink in front of Emmet, taking his old glass away. After giving them each an unreadable glance, he left, and Ingo continued.

"What you don't want," he said, finally taking off one of his black leather gloves and reaching across the table to retrieve a dollop of whipped cream from the top of Emmet's fruity drink, "Is a big—"

Ingo pushed Emmet's nose with the cream on his finger, leaving some behind-

"—sloppy—"

He slid his cream-covered finger down to his lips, brushing it along his mouth—

"—mess."

Ingo then pulled his finger back to himself and licked off the remainder of the cream, tongue poking around playfully at his own pointer finger that was sticking straight up—licking it elegantly, Emmet thought; and in that moment, Emmet was torn between wanting to smack the daylights out of his brother and the desire to fuck right then and there on the table in public with him.

Yet the only response Emmet could think up was to just drink passively away at his cocktail. He didn't bother to wipe the cream from his nose right away, only doing so after a good minute or two lost in his swamp of humiliation and desire.

In the time it took Ingo to finish his highly prized cut of beef and his extra dirty martini, Emmet had downed two sweet cocktails which consisted of schnapps and rum as their alcoholic base. Motioning to the waiter once more, Ingo beckoned for the check, paid it off with his credit card, and left a substantial tip behind in cash.

As he stood up to presumably conclude the night, Emmet did the same; however, once Emmet was on his feet, he seemed to have a difficult time keeping his balance, swaying a bit to one side and leaning against his brother.

"Sorry," he murmured after a long pause, not daring to look up to meet the eyes of the judgmental onlookers.

Ingo shook his head in disapproving amusement. "It's unusual to see you have difficulty pacing yourself with your alcohol," he mentioned just loud enough for the closest onlookers to hear as he served his brother as a crutch to the elevator.

When the elevator doors closed, Emmet slumped against the mirrored walls, eyes fluttering shut and knees bending enough to take him down several feet closer to the floor. "There's that stupid music again," he muttered in response to the over-played jazz from a good twenty years ago on the elevator speakers.

"Get up," Ingo told him, lifting him by the shoulder as if he had a scruff. "We're going home."

Leaning on his brother for assistance, Emmet swayed himself out of the lobby area of the building and back onto the sidewalk with Ingo. "Where'd we park again? Shit, s'cold," Emmet declared with chattering teeth.

"Not far," Ingo replied, unfazed by his twin's drunkenness.

Emmet felt stupid for having left his coat in the car. His hands stayed in his pockets and his walked in a not-quite-straight line with his shoulders up to his ears in an attempt to keep warmer. Passing by the unfamiliar buildings felt surreal. He knew Nimbasa like the back of his hand on a map, but because he seldom frequented this particular part of town, the smaller buildings that could not be seen on the skyline from far away might as well have been strange people who he had never seen before. He found his eyes tracing the details of the old brownstone houses, comparing them to the apartment they had and musing in his head about what it might be like to live in one of those fine old houses rather than their high rise, second floor from the top; they look nice but, "It's so far away from the subway," he groaned out loud, giving little indication of what his silent thoughts were and what had slipped out of his mouth. He looked back up toward the towering building they had just exited, noting that he couldn't see the top. He sighed, then groaned, not remembering how far they had walked, exactly.

"Are we almost there?!" he whined just as Ingo stopped in front of the crookedly parked black sports car, which he was presently whisking a parking ticket off of. Ingo unlocked the doors and with a tilt of his head, silently instructed Emmet to get in. Behaving, Emmet got into the passenger's seat, fumbling for the seatbelt as his older brother reached over to open the glove compartment and shove the new piece of paper in with all the other unpaid parking tickets.

The engine started and they took off, being honked almost instantly as soon as Ingo pulled out onto the road.

[[To Be Continued]]


	4. Chapter 4

**GIVE AND TAKE**

**PART IV**

Emmet hadn't realized how strong the cocktails he drank were until his body required coordination. Making one foot go in front of the other up so many flights of stairs seemed like a daunting task; yet it wasn't until he nearly reached their floor that he questioned Ingo.

"Hey. Why are we taking the steps? There's an elevator, isn't there?"

"It isn't working," Ingo replied smoothly, waiting for his twin who was practically huffing and puffing his way up the steps. It was a lie, of course. Ingo simply wanted to exhaust his brother.

"Really? Ugh." Emmet grunted and shuffled past Ingo and down the familiar hallway. "This is our floor, right?"

Ingo nearly rolled his eyes in amusement. "Yes, Emmet, yes it is."

The older twin hurried past Emmet to their apartment and began to unlock the door. Emmet practically leaned himself against Ingo as he turned the lock, his cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. After Ingo pushed the door open, he moved, thus taking away Emmet's support and nearly making him trip. The younger twin stumbled inside the apartment, closing the door behind him and slumping down with his back pressed against it, knees folding inward when he reached the floor.

That was perhaps one of the most disappointing— Dates? Outings? Dinners?—he had ever been out on in his life with Ingo. He was still hungry and Ingo hadn't shared a single morsel of his meal. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember why he didn't order something for himself, but he was pretty sure that it had to do with the prices on the menus and the fact that he was already humiliated by the ridiculous drink he had accidentally ordered. On top of it all, Emmet hadn't received so much as a kiss from his brother today, much less the usual blowjob.

"Ingo!" he whined to him still from his spot. Emmet could hear him moving around in the living room. "I'm hungry!"

"And?"

"Make me something!"

Ingo returned slowly, still in his outfit from before, minus his shoes. He poked his sitting brother's shoulder with a sock-covered toe. "What makes you think I'll cook for you with an attitude like that you haughty little lush?"

Emmet bit his lip in response to his brother's reply. He lightly took a hold of his ankle and looked up at him with doe eyes and a pouty bottom lip. "Please?"

"Up the ante, Emmet. You need to do something for me." He went from poking him lightly with his toe to practically stepping on his shoulder and pinning him against the wall with his foot. "And you need to ask me even nicer, more politely. No more disrespect."

The younger twin's face only got more childlike, mustering up his best innocent expression from his arsenal. "I'll do the dishes afterward? Clean the apartment? Pay the electric bill? I-if you'd please maybe make some dinner for me."

After a moment of consideration, looking over Emmet's features, the older brother seemed satisfied, stepping away from him. "Alright. Sit down at the table. I have just the thing." With that, Ingo left his brother and moved into the kitchen.

It took a few seconds for Emmet to get enough energy to push himself up, for the neurons to communicate the message of _get up and go to the kitchen like Ingo said_ with the rest of his body. Finally, he pushed himself up with his palms, swaying a bit once he was up, and moseying into the kitchen, nearly collapsing into the closest chair at the kitchen table, waiting for whatever it is that Ingo had in mind.

All Emmet could see what the back of Ingo, reaching up to the top of the fridge and pulling something forth. When he turned around, he lifted a glass bowl from the top of a plate and revealed a beautiful slice of red velvet cake with vanilla icing, completely with a strawberry perched on the top. It was brought to Emmet and placed in front of him before Ingo took the seat across from him on the opposite side of the table, folding his arms and crossing one leg over the other.

It took a moment to process that Ingo had truly just served him cake for dinner.

"Ingo?"

Still with his arms crossed, Ingo sat back in his chair. "Eat."

Pure silence. Emmet stared at his brother with those same wide doe eyes from before, perhaps looking simultaneously appreciative and apprehensive about the sweet confection. Hesitantly then, he picked up his silver fork and cut through the tip of the cake closest to him, bringing the red velvet and vanilla icing up to his lips and taking a bite, followed by a nearly orgasmic mewl of appreciation in response to the appealing delicious taste.

"Did you make this?" Emmet asked, no longer hesitating to take more and more bites of the cake, eating it quickly and greedily, hungry from the lack of dinner and his semi-drunken wave of munchies.

"I did," Ingo told him as he finally got up to start some tea for himself and returning with the loose-leaf chai tea sitting in a strainer.

"Just one piece?" Emmet asked, swallowing one of the last bits of cake.

"Just one."

Emmet paused and placed his fork on the side of the plate.

"Why just one?"

"I'm not much of a sweets person," Ingo said simply.

"Yeah, but it's just one piece, not a whole cake or anything. I mean, I'd expect that of a bakery but not from something homemade." The slightest bit of suspicion was present in Emmet's tone.

"I brought a cake in for the depot agents and saved a piece for you."

Emmet stared at his twin.

"You wouldn't do that."

"I did today," Ingo shrugs a bit, taking a sip of tea. "It came to my attention that I've terrified quite a few of my subordinates recently to the point of detrimental rumors being circulated around about me. Food is an easy way to connect to a simpleton's soul. So I brought in a cake."

"…I see," Emmet remarked, suspicion leaving his voice and continuing to eat the last bits of cake.

Ingo smiled behind his mug, pleased that his lie was successful.

Once Emmet was finished, he took his plate and put it in the dishwasher, a rare gesture of thanks. "Red velvet though," Emmet remarked to himself, looking up at the ceiling. "I always think of seduction and decadency when thinking of red velvet cake. Why would you choose that to give to your single line employees?"

Ingo had a feeling that the question would be asked and he already had an answer prepared. "Red velvet is simply a happy medium between vanilla and chocolate cake. In order to appeal to everyone, I chose that kind." He paused, then looked Emmet over. "You look like a mess and you ought to take a shower," he practically ordered rather than asked, pointing him toward the bathroom.

"Right," Emmet said lazily, traipsing over to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, started the shower, stripped naked, and got in.

The hot water ran down his back, wet his hair, and Emmet tilted his head back, mulling over the night's events. He still couldn't believe Ingo would take him to such a fancy place with the way Emmet was dressed. It was difficult to get over the embarrassment too.

The warm steam curled around him as he began to feel just a bit woozy. He noted this and assumed it was because the combination of a hot shower after having alcohol wasn't a great idea. He turned it down just a bit and began to shampoo his hair.

The dizziness only grew more intense. It was only when Emmet placed a hand on the tile wall to steady himself that he began to realize why he was feeling so dizzy—he saw himself growing hard, his erection a deeper color of red than usual.

"Fuck," he cursed and sat in the bathtub while the shower water fell on him. Realizing this was the cause of his problem, he turned the temperature of the water back up to get warmer again as he began to work at himself.

But it was useless. With each stroke, he only found himself growing harder, more desperate for touch. The more Emmet touched himself, the more unsatisfied he felt. A whimper escaped his lips and he hissed as his erection grew almost painful.

With the formation of tears in his eyes, Emmet couldn't help it anymore. "Ingo!" he cried out from the bathroom.

No response.

He grew more and more unsatisfied.

"Ingo!" he cried again, shifting onto his knees and desperately reaching to slide his hand out from the shower curtain to open the bathroom door. "Ingo!" he shouted again after it was opened. "Ingo, please!"

It felt like hours before he finally saw his brother at the door and upon seeing him, Emmet grabbed at his pant leg.

"What is it?"

"Ingo!" he cried with actual tears rolling down his face now. "Ingo, please, please!" he asked, gesturing south toward his obvious problem.

The older twin raised an invisible eyebrow at this. "Ah. I see you enjoyed your cake."

Emmet went silent, staring at his older brother before breaking out into a whining whimper. "What the hell did you put in that cake?!" he said in a nearly panicked voice. "I need you, now! Fuck, I need your mouth so badly, it fucking hurts to be like this—"

With that, Ingo pressed a finger to his wet lips, not having taken his leather gloves off yet. "Ah-ah-ah," he told him. "You want me to please you? All you do is take from me. Take, and take, and take. Well, not tonight," Ingo told him frankly as he undid his belt, threw it to the floor, and stepped out of his bottom half of clothing. "Tonight, you are going to learn how to give. You'll learn how to give until you can give no more; and I will not stop the lesson until you've balanced out hot to give and take."

With no further words, Ingo sat on the ledge of the bathtub, spread his legs wide apart, and grabbed Emmet by his still suds-filled hair with one hand, prying his protesting mouth open with his other black leather gloved hand, never minding the fact that his gloves were getting wet. Once his mouth was open just enough, he practically jammed his already erect cock into the others mouth.

The amount of whimpers coming out of Emmet were almost comical to Ingo; seeing his twin so desperate for touch and attention and being unable to get it was good punishment, but it was not enough. He had to force him into giving, whether he liked it or not.

"Suck," Ingo commanded him, keeping his brother's head in place.

Without enough energy to fight him, Emmet had no choice to do what he was told. He obediently began to suck Ingo's dick, opening his mouth wider with a muffled cry when Ingo began to thrust and fuck his mouth.

"Good boy," Ingo told him, his usual serious expression giving way to an almost sadistic smile. "If you want to take, you can take my fucking cock all the way back," he commanded again with another slew of thrusts, twisting the strands of Emmet's hair between his fingers.

The younger twin shuddered, holding desperately onto Ingo's thighs while he gave to his brother. His nails dug in a little while his mouth was fucked, and, desperate for friction, Emmet attempted to rub his erect cock against the porcelain tub.

Ingo laughed at Emmet's attempt to hump the smooth surface. "You're so pathetic when you don't get what you want. You think you're so fucking tough when I give into you, but when I don't, you're a stupid, filthy mess." Suddenly, he pulled Emmet's head back from him with a tug on his hair, causing Emmet to practically gasp for breath as he looked helplessly up at his twin. "I want you to beg me," Ingo told Emmet. "Beg me for what you want."

"I-Ingo," Emmet said in a particularly raspy and breathy voice, face flushed as red as his unsatisfied erection. "P-please, Ingo, please! I need you so badly, I-I'll do anything for it, but I need it _now_," he begged obediently, helplessly.

"Now? Don't tell me _now_. If or when is not under your control!" He pulled Emmet's head back between his legs and began mercilessly fucking his mouth as if to prove his point. Emmet whimpered and smacked his hands against the tub, only stopping after the short bout of discipline was given and his brother pulled him back again.

"I-I'm sorry! S-so sorry, Ingo. I just really need you. P-please, I'm begging you," he whispered, sinking closer to the wet shower floor, steam curling around them both. The front of Ingo's shirt that he was still wearing was soaked now and his hair was damp from the falling water. He frowned at him and tilted his chin up with a wet gloved finger.

"Give me your ass," Ingo commanded.

Emmet's face almost went as white as a sheet. "W-what?"

"I said I want your ass! Give it to me!" he yelled, smacking him across the face.

Sniffling and humiliated, Emmet crawled on all fours toward the front of the tub, lowering the front half of his body so his hind side stuck up in the air, offering it, ashamed, fearful, and embarrassed, to his brother. Emmet _hated_ bottoming.

"Lubricate yourself," Ingo instructed, grabbing a familiar bottom from a drawer and tossing it at him.

Wanting nothing more than to just be touched and be able to come, Emmet did as he was told as quickly as possible to his entrance, preparing for his brother. Ingo took the bottle when he was done and lubricated his own erection.

"Too bad for you," Ingo practically answered Emmet's thoughts with a smirk as he slid into the bathtub and mounted him from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso. Without another word, he pushed into his brother with a grunt, causing Emmet to shout and cry, clawing at the porcelain tub beneath them.

"F-fuck," Emmet whispered, moving one of his hands to stroke himself as Ingo entered.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," Ingo corrected, biting him on his shoulder.

Hissing, Emmet pulled them away and keep them on either side of himself, shuddering.

"P-please touch me, Ingo, please," he practically whispered in a strained voice. "I need you."

"Shut up, you piece of filth." The older twin plunged into the other mercilessly, fucking him harder than he had fucked his mouth. Emmet's body moved and convulsed rapidly with the movement, bouncing and bumping more than he ever had, even compared to being in the oldest, more rickety subway car on his lines.

Emmet whimpered again, shuddering when he felt Ingo pound into that pleasure center deep inside. He wasn't sure how long they were at it for, but he cried out, releasing long before Ingo did—and yet despite coming, Emmet still was not satisfied.

After the older twin came, he pulled out and let Emmet fall to the tub, standing up only to take the rest of his clothes off and to rinse. He left his brother on the floor where he could be covered in the falling suds as Ingo washed himself off from the day. Leaving the shower on, Ingo then exited the shower, closing the curtain behind him, dried off, and exited the bathroom.

Laying pathetically on the floor, still in need of attention, Emmet struggled to stand. This was _ridiculous_. How could this happen? Usually when Emmet came, that was it, he was done and satisfied; yet here he was, saddled with an unnaturally persistent erection. All he could do was rinse himself and turn off the shower, barely drying himself off before he was out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, finding Ingo already under the covers.

"Ingo," a still damp Emmet begged, moving up behind his brother, hugging him, and pressing his erection to his ass. "Ingo, please, please," he whispered. "I get it, I _promise_ I get it. But fuck, I need you. Please, Ingo, just one little blowjob?"

Quietly, Ingo turned to face his twin. He said nothing, only staring.

"…please?" Emmet practically whispered.

"You want a blowjob?" Ingo asked him almost condescendingly.

"Y-yes, please. Please!"

Ingo reached into his night tabled, retrieving some twine. As Emmet's eyes widened, Ingo bound his brother's wrists above his head, tying them to the headboard.

"Convince me," demanded Ingo.

"I…" Emmet trailed off, watching as his brother took his left leg and bound him by the ankle to a knob on the left side of the bed. "I'll give you whatever you want, anytime you want, from now on," he whispered. Emmet continued to watch as Ingo bound his right ankle and anchored it to the right knob on the bed. Then Ingo stared at him.

"Go on."

"A-any time, any day, whatever you want. I'm yours. All yours. I promise."

Ingo cracked a smile.

"You promise," he repeated. "Should you break your promise, I will make you very, very sorry."

"I won't break it," Emmet said quickly, his cock now the tallest point on him with the rest of his body lying flat and spread-eagled before his brother.

"Good, Emmet. Good."

The younger twin watched with wide, yearning eyes as his brother finally, _finally_ lowered his head to take him into his mouth. Emmet was afraid to thrust, no matter how badly he wanted to, but his twin was generous enough to do the work for him, moving his head up and down on his cock, raking his teeth lightly up and down, sucking, licking, and deep-throating him to his absolute best ability; Ingo's mouth was always glorious and wonderful, but tonight surpassed anything he could possibly remember.

And yet Emmet found himself embarrassingly coming in what felt like just a minute, two at most. His spine stiffened as he released, shuddering while his mind went completely blank.

Ingo swallowed his twin's load and wiped the corner of his mouth. "Giving doesn't make you dirty," Ingo explained, moving up Emmet's body to kiss him on the lips. "It just makes you a lot more attractive to me. That's all."

As the wave of satisfaction moved over him, Emmet moved a shaking hand up to Ingo's face, touching it gently. "Th-thank you."

Emmet gave, Ingo took. Ingo reciprocated in giving that wonderful mouth of his and Emmet had reveled in it.

All was well in Nimbasa City.

[[End]]


End file.
